


Jack and Whitney

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Humor, Political, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-09
Updated: 2007-12-09
Packaged: 2019-05-31 08:17:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15115451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: If she knew one thing about this "thing", it was that she needed to keep control of the situation.





	Jack and Whitney

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

“What's shakin’ Mindy.”

Margaret looked up from her computer screen. She wanted to smile at Bruno Gianelli but found she could not. Her mind kept wandering to what happened between them three weeks before. It had been so long since she had been with a man…why did it have to be this one. Why did it have to be so good that Margaret was sure a frontal lobotomy would not make her forget about it?

“It’s Margaret.”

“Isn't that what I said?”

“No.” she shook her head.

“Oh. Hmm.” Bruno put his hands in his pockets. He did not move from the space in front of her desk.

“Leo is in a meeting and cannot be disturbed.” Her voice wavered a bit. Margaret cleared her throat, again focusing on her computer screen.

“I wasn’t looking for Leo.”

“Then what do you need Mr. Gianelli?”

He told her to call him Bruno about fifty times but she never listened. He liked that about her, that and a host of other things. Her red hair and green eyes just off the top of his head. They turned him on. On the surface, very little about Margaret stood out. She was smarter than hell, Bruno quickly figured that out. He also noticed she did her best not to draw attention to herself. Despite that, everyone, possibly even Leo, thought her to be an eccentric.

That did not stop them from respecting her and seeking out her expansive knowledge on every subject known to man. Bruno didn’t think she was eccentric. Unusual, hell yes, but not eccentric. He watched her handle all the situations that came her way on a daily basis. Margaret never lost her poise or raised her voice (except to occasionally yell at Leo). She never even seemed overwhelmed though she carried quite a load. He was impressed and taken with her almost immediately.

Bruno had no idea why the senior executive assistant made him feel like she did. There were so many women in the White House, a good deal of them in the West Wing. Every single one of them was interesting in their own way. The huge majority of them were also pleasing to the eye. He knew they would be easy conquests. Not sexually loose, but easy. Hell, maybe sexually loose too. 

That would not bother him. Margaret was not like that; he saw her as a challenge. Bruno Gianelli enjoyed challenges. He was not trying to break her; liked her just as she was. He wanted to get to the center of her. What he would find there and what it would do to him were unknown. The journey had already begun and try as he might, Bruno could not get off the ride or make it stop.

“How does a nightcap sound?” Bruno lowered his voice to ask, leaning the palms of his hands on her desk.

Margaret glanced down at his hands. Their delicacy surprised her, as they were quite large and heavy. When they touched her that night they were together, Margaret felt a shiver through her body like never before. The three times they made love, oh yes the man had stamina, was like being high on the most fantastic drugs. The next day she was still flying and for days afterward she was hung over.

“Its 11:45 in the morning, Mr. Gianelli.” She checked her reasonably priced but efficient wristwatch. “My day is not that bad.”

“Later, after work, your place.”

He said it in statement form and the confidence in his voice made Margaret tremble. Could it even be possible that he wanted her? That was too much to comprehend and Margaret had a long day ahead of her.

“I usually work pretty late.” She said.

“I remember.”

“I'm quite busy right now so getting off work is probably the last thing on my mind.”

Bruno understood that. He too had a crazy day of meetings and battles ahead; maybe that was why he was anxious to shore up plans for a satisfying evening. He also wanted to know if what he felt with Margaret was a fluke. He waited three weeks to approach her again because he felt he needed to back away from what he felt that night with her. He moved back from her desk.

“Perhaps I can come back and speak with you later this evening.” He said.

“Alright. Enjoy your day.”

“See you later redhead girl.”

Margaret tried to glare at him but she immediately saw the smile behind his eyes. Then he winked at her.

“Goodbye.”

She went back to her work, pushing thoughts of him aside so she could concentrate. Occasionally, he would creep in and that bothered Margaret. No man since Tom Hampton had preoccupied her thoughts so much. Bruno Gianelli was not the right man for her…he was a heartbreaker for sure. Of course Tom had been too, though he did a much better job of concealing his true self.

Wasn’t it better if Margaret knew exactly what she was getting into anyway? This was just a thing; they were not in a relationship and probably never would be. No, it definitely never would be. It was impossible for it to be. What she needed to do was to stop thinking about it. Every time a thought about Bruno came to her mind, it snowballed into a collection of thoughts until Margaret lost control of the situation. If she knew one thing about this “thing”, it was that she needed to keep control of the situation.

***

“Tell me Leo; just give me a good educated answer. How the hell am I supposed to do my job if he is going to close the door on me every time. I could give a damn if he likes me or not.” Bruno let out an exasperated sigh.

“You know he is not always like that. There is a lot going on right now.”

“Yes, some of which is running a reelection campaign. While I sympathize with whatever personal issues the President is having right now, and I too mourn the loss of Delores Landingham, I have a job to do. He hired me to do it.”

“I hired you. Whatever you need from the President right now you can get through me. You know this Bruno…don’t make things more difficult.”

“There is no need to treat me as if I am the petulant child. You have not been around all day. What shall I do then? I am not going to Josh Lyman, forget that. My wasted time is costing the Committee to Reelect the President an awful lot of money.”

“Our finances are fine.” Leo took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He had a headache but that was nothing new. “You don’t have to worry about the checks bouncing.”

“Just tell me how to get the information I need to do this job the way I need to do it Leo. I am a really busy man.” He muttered an expletive that didn’t quite stay under his breath. “Being difficult is not my intention but it is not above me either.”

“I know that, I do. Margaret!”

“Yes?” she walked into the office. Her arms were bogged down with binders and folders. She looked at her boss, seeming to try psychically to figure out what he was going to say.

“Whatever Bruno asks for, you give it to him. You know the rules but you have my approval.”

“What? I'm sorry?”

She looked from Leo to Bruno. The political strategist was grinning amiably and she wanted to pinch him. He got a kick out of the whole exercise.

“When he can't get me, he gets you.” He looked at Bruno. “Trust me; she's smarter than I am anyway.”

“I believe you.” He did not take his eyes from the assistant. Leo’s request seemed to unnerve her but he had to search deep under the surface of her well-organized self to see it.

“You need to eat dinner.” Margaret said, deciding to change the subject.

“I'm fine. I don’t have time…”

“Leo, don’t argue with me. You will not win tonight. How many times do we have to have the conversation about you needing to eat at least one substantial meal a day? You get these headaches because your blood sugar is too low.”

“How the hell would you even know…?”

“You're arguing with me.”

“I am not. Margaret…”

“I will call down to the mess and have an aide pick up your dinner. It’s meatloaf night and you like the meatloaf.” Leo looked as if he might want to argue again but thought better of it. Bruno believed that was smart. “Do you have a taste for something, Mr. Gianelli?”

“Oh yes, but not meatloaf I'm afraid. Thank you for asking. Thank you Leo.”

“Mmm hmm. Margaret…?”

“Tylenol or Advil?” she asked.

“Advil.”

“Alright.”

The Chief of Staff moved on to something else. Margaret and Bruno left the room together. She emptied her arms, picking up the phone while going into her desk for the pills. She avoided conversation with him altogether. He would wait…her workday was not close to over.

***

“Hi.”

It was Bruno’s turn to look up from his work. He swore if he saw anymore polling numbers and marketing strategies tonight be was going to lose his mind. Things were not looking good for President Bartlet. The political strategist had no doubt in his ability to get the man reelected. This despite the Senior Staff violating Rule #1; listen to me. Do what I say and you will be victorious. 

Actually, Bruno thought that might be rule #3 but it was inconsequential. Other things had taken precedence in his cerebral cortex as soon as she came into the room. Much more interesting suppositions than Jed Bartlet, Leo McGarry, and their secrets. That would all be there to tackle in the morning. It looked as if his night might be about to get much better.

“Tell me what's on your mind.” He rested his cheek on the palm of his hand.

“Something hard, strong, and bad for me.” she replied.

Oh yeah baby, he thought, I can handle that. All of the above; right here at your disposal.

“I don’t have any whiskey at my place.” She said.

“We will stop on the way and pick some up. Are you ready to go?”

She already carried her purse and trench coat.

“I certainly am. How is it that some days I seem to feel as if I have gotten nothing done?”

“Tell me about it. You know what, don’t…we’re going to scratch this day from the history books.”

Bruno stood, throwing some things into his briefcase and he headed to the exit with Margaret. It was after nine; plenty of people were still around. No one seemed to notice them leaving together or assumed that they were not. Just because two people left at the same time did not mean they were “together”.

“Goodnight Margaret.” The night watchman said.

“Goodnight Ken. Have a good one.”

Bruno waited until they were out in the parking lot to put his hand on her back. It was difficult for her not to jump…it sent a jolt of electricity through her bloodstream. The rain was coming down in sheets.

“You should really have on a coat.” She said in a matter of fact tone he’d heard from her before. “It’s not summer yet and there is a chill under this rain.”

“I'm fine.”

“You will catch cold. Kind of hard to play the scary political titan with a runny nose.”

“The last time I was sick I was prepubescent.”

“Seriously?”

She climbed into the Dodge Durango when he unlocked the door. Bruno closed her door and went around to the other side. It made him smile when he saw her reach across to unlock his door. She was that kind of woman.

“Seriously. I am a very healthy human being. I think my testosterone could hold the cure for something.”

“You smoke too much, drink too much, and engage in questionable activity. That is not quite healthy.”

“What questionable activity?” he asked, starting the ignition. “And I do not drink too much.”

“Politics of course.”

“Of course.” Bruno laughed.

“What did you think I meant?”

He did not answer as he stopped the SUV in front of the liquor store and put on his blinkers. He turned to his companion.

“Keep these doors locked. If anyone even looks at the car, honk like the devil.”

“I think I will be alright.” Margaret replied.

“Indulge me.” his voice softened as he touched her shoulder.

“Alright." she smiled. "Go.”

Bruno reached into the back seat for his umbrella and dashed out of the car. Margaret turned on the radio; she quickly found Whitney Houston singing I Will Always Love You. She hummed along while listening to the rain pound on the sunroof. Bruno was back in ten minutes, placing the bottle of Jack Daniels in the console between them. She turned off the radio as he returned.

“Were you listening to something?” he asked. “I don’t mind the music.”

“No.” she shook her head.

***

It was a second floor walk-up on the edge of Georgetown. The neighborhood was changing for the better. Margaret never went to sleep to gunshots but she didn’t always like walking around alone at night either. DC was a dangerous city sometimes. Her apartment was interesting to him. It was not small, but shaped oddly so that it seemed so. You walked into the living room first coming through the door. The kitchen was off to the right. There was an entrance from the living room and hallway.

Down the long hallway was a bathroom, a junior bedroom Bruno believed might be too small to sneeze in, and a closet. The master bedroom was at the end of the hall…you could see it from the front door. The place was tastefully decorated with nice but mismatched furniture. Photographs hung on the wall, black and whites that were professionally shot. On the mantle above the filled in fireplace Bruno saw pictures from Margaret’s private life. She did not seem to be lacking loved ones, though he was not sure if they were friends or family.

He had never taken the time to look around the place. The last time he was there, the coffee invitation, they ended up in the bedroom quickly. He remembered the blanket on her bed was very soft. It was not as soft as her skin but close. He imagined that she slept soundly underneath it. He had not spent the night with her so he was not sure. She did not offer him an invitation to do so.

Looking at her, Bruno thought Margaret seemed unnerved with having someone in her personal space. Perhaps she did not keep company. Of course her job kept her very busy. One needed time to have a social life. She certainly did not have much of that, keeping the same hours as her workaholic boss.

“Margaret…”

“There are glasses in the cabinet by the refrigerator. Could you please make me a Jack and Coke with three ice cubes?”

“What are you going to do?” he asked.

“Get out of these clothes. I will be right back.”

“Take your time.” The smile crept across his goatee. “The cabinet by the refrigerator?”

“Yes. Excuse me.”

She quickly walked down the hall as Bruno went into the kitchen. Margaret closed the bedroom door, leaning against it for a moment or two. OK, she had to be cool, witty, and sexy. Except she did not feel like any of those things. She felt like a high school sophomore, crushing on Andy Pemberton. She used to kiss her pillow at night pretending it was him. Eventually she just grabbed him and unleashed her passion, overwhelmed by feelings. He sort of snickered and walked away. Lots of girls wanted him, the wallflower did not take up many of his thoughts.

She undressed, hanging her grey suit back in the closet. The blouse went into the hamper and the hose in the trash; they had a run. Margaret grabbed an American University tee shirt and a pair of black tights from the top drawer of her dresser. She brushed her hair and pulled it back into a ponytail. As much as she wanted to, hiding out in there was not an option. Another deep breath later she was walking down the hallway.

Bruno had kicked off his shoes, taken off his jacket, and loosened his tie. He sat on her couch with a glass of straight whiskey.

“Jack and Coke.” he pointed to the glass sitting on the coaster.

“Thank you. Do you mind music?”

He shook his head. She finagled with the system on the short bookcase. Suddenly the voice of Whitney Houston came out of the speakers. 

I found out what I've been missing  
Always on the run  
I've been looking for someone  
Now you're here like you’ve been before  
And you know just what I need  
It took some time for me to see…

Margaret sat on the other end of the couch and sipped her drink. It tasted perfect. They looked at each other for a few silent minutes.

“Do you have a very big family?” Bruno asked. “I was looking at your pictures.”

“Yes.” Margaret nodded, smiling. “I am the fifth of six. Three sisters and two brothers.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. I even have a twin.”

“Really?”

“Her name is Ann. We are fraternal but everyone thought we were identical. I never understood that; she was much more glamorous than me. We have so little in common but mother always said we were connected as if we shared more than a womb. But I believe sharing a womb must be a connection that can never be broken, even if we did not come from the same egg. She is a freelance photographer who travels all over the world…she took many of these photographs.”

That sounded like an interesting job. He did not want to talk about Ann though, he wanted to talk about Margaret. He wanted to know things about her though tonight might not be the time. Tonight he wanted to kiss her, all over. He moved closer on the couch. When he stretched his arm across the top of the couch his fingers almost touched her shoulder. Margaret reached for her drink.

“I'm nervous.” She blurted out.

“You have no reason to be. Nothing has to be done that you don’t want; I only want to make you feel good.”

“Don't you want to feel good Bruno?” 

He pulled her into his arms, softly kissing her lips until Margaret opened her mouth for his tongue. His arms wrapped tighter around her but she pulled back some. Bruno stopped kissing her.

“I need some more to drink.” She said.

“Do you need to be intoxicated?” he asked.

“I wasn’t the last time.”

Margaret drank quicker than usual. She wanted to drink away her trembling but he did not need to know that. The man had to think she was the most inexperienced woman on the planet. She just drank and let the lyrics of Didn’t We Almost Have It All seep under her skin.

“Tell me something, how do you handle Leo McGarry?”

“Years and years of practice.” She replied.

“So you know him well?”

“Better than almost anyone. He knows me quite well too. Why?”

“I'm just making conversation.”

“And what about you, Bruno Gianelli? How did you get into the jungle of politics?”

“I'm an adrenaline junkie who thrives on a ticking clock or a seemingly impossible state of affairs. I like to pursue, woo, and triumph.”

She wanted to talk some more, learn things about him and know him but the fire burning in her stomach wanted much more. This time she kissed him; Bruno liked that. Margaret leaned back against the arm of the couch, pulling him with her as the kisses intensified. He moaned into her mouth as she stroked his hair and the nape of his neck.

“I enjoy kissing you.” He murmured. “You taste perfect; like a fresh apple or a Cuban cigar.”

That made Margaret laugh. No one ever told her that before. If it was a line, she liked it.

“I always worried I might be a bad kisser.” She said. “How is one to know if they are any good? No one wants to talk about it with you. Kissing does not need to be a taboo subject. Knowing that you are good or bad at it is important information to have about yourself.”

“You're wonderful. Most women are you know, though that does not mean you're not special Marnie. It’s usually men who are bad kissers anyway.”

“Kissed many men in your life Bruno Gianelli?”

He laughed, moving down to stroke her neck with his tongue. Margaret tilted her chin up and sighed softly. She untied his tie, dropping it on the floor. Then she took his face in her hands. They stopped for just a moment. Bruno stood, holding out his hand for Margaret to take. She walked him back to the bedroom and closed the door behind them. 

He did not want to be crass but was anxious to get her out of the casual clothes. His surprise was evident when he discovered she wore nothing underneath but skin. Pale white skin with a smattering of freckles here and there. She tried to turn off the lamp but he would not let her. After the second attempt, Margaret gave up.

“Mmm…”

“Does that feel good?” he asked, rubbing her shoulders.

She nodded, closing her eyes. Bruno kissed her all over. He slowly seduced every inch of her body with his lips, tongue, and mouth. Her ears, neck, shoulders, arms, chest, breasts, and stomach; back to her breasts. Margaret had goose bumps and that excited him. He cupped and caressed her breasts, drawing his mouth to the hard pink nipples. Margaret arched her back.

“Oh mmm, Bruno, oh yes.”

Again, he grinned around her skin and sucked harder. She was a moaner; had no problem letting know how good he could make her feel. His hand moved down while his mouth remained at her breasts. Margaret was very wet, and when he touched between her thighs, it made her shudder. Reluctantly she pulled him from her breasts and kissed him passionately.

“We need something.” Bruno’s voice was husky as he spread her legs further apart.

“You're still wearing clothes.”

Bruno jumped up from the bed, surprising his companion. He suddenly starting humming a tune, like a porno film, and removing his clothes. Margaret just laughed as each article of clothing hit the carpet. Dress shirt, tee shirt, slacks, trouser socks, and finally boxer shorts. When he was naked, Bruno gingerly touched himself like a stripper would. Margaret’s laughter at the display was giddy.

“What are you doing? You're being crazy.”

“Do you think I'm sexy baby?” his fake British accent made her laugh more.

He crawled back onto the bed, kissing her passionately. Margaret took a condom from the nightstand. She bit down on her lip so she would not tell him the awkward story of condom shopping at Walgreen’s just a few days after they slept together. She had no idea if it would ever happen again but something told her that being prepared was important.

A sound came from Bruno’s stomach when he slid inside of her. Margaret stiffened just like she did the first time.

“Relax baby, just relax.” He touched her face before his hand moved lower.

She relaxed, and soon they found a rhythm to the way their bodies moved together. Bruno lifted Margaret’s thighs to thrust deeper into her.

“Bruno! Bruno, oh God! Ohhh!”

“Margaret!”

He kept thrusting, loving the way she moaned and grabbed his hips. Soon they were moaning together. Margaret arched her back, crying out her pleasure. He was not hurting her but she was positive no man had ever been so deep inside of her. Was that why it had never been so wonderful before? No man ever touched her like Bruno did either; when he rubbed her clit Margaret immediately climaxed.

“Bruno!”

It wasn’t over. He was still going and she felt the frenzy bubble in her stomach all over again. The second time was even more powerful than the first. They climaxed together before Bruno rolled onto the mattress to catch his breath. Margaret immediately covered herself. She lay on her side with her eyes closed and neither of them spoke a word. She reached out to stroke his chest.

“There are not many better ways to end a shitty day at the office.” He said.

Bruno pulled her into his arms and they kissed. It surprised Margaret sometimes how tender he could be. How his hands caressed her back; how his lips softly touched her own.

“I left the music on in the other room.” she said, putting some distance between them.

“Ah yes, Whitney Houston. She fit the mood perfectly.”

“I will be right back.” she got out of bed, dropped the blanket and quickly covered in a bathrobe. “Do you want another drink?”

“Yes. Do you mind if I smoke?”

“No. There’s an ashtray on the nightstand.”

Bruno put his boxers on while she was gone. He grabbed the slim cigarette case from his pocket, lighting a Marlboro Light before relaxing against the pillows. The soft blanket still covered the bed…it would go soon with the weather change. Margaret closed the door when she returned, handing him his glass, and opening the bedroom windows. The rain was still pouring down. She stood by the window for a while, staring down with her glass of Jack and Coke. The streets were deserted except for the occasional car and some people running from the weather.

“Did you know that Washington, DC averages about three inches of rain a month?” she asked.

“Sounds about right for a swamp. Does the weather interest you?”

“I'm fascinated by facts of all kinds.” She looked at him. God, Margaret hoped that did not make her sound as nerdy as she believed it did. “This is not good weather to drive in.”

“I could stay. I don’t turn into a pumpkin at midnight Marnie. Do you?”

“No. OK.” Again, she looked out the window. 

Bruno put out his cigarette, getting up to join her. His hands slid easily around her slender waist.

“Come back to bed.” He whispered, taking her earlobe between his lips.

“Why?”

“Because I want you again. I want you in my arms.”

“You're horny a lot, aren’t you?”

“Not with everyone…my libido can be as discriminatory as any man’s. Come back to bed with me Margaret.”

He turned her around, kissing her passionately. Margaret wrapped her arms around him and let him lead her back to the warmth of the blankets. She would allow herself this one time to indulge in these fantasies; she had all night.

***


End file.
